


Holding Pattern

by blackchaps



Series: Hawkeye and the Furball [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is on his way to working at SHIELD. It's gonna be great, right? Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Pattern

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Mercy Thompson's universe, and thank you Patricia Briggs for writing it!

*********  
“Wait. What?”

“This is Shield,” Phil said, calm as could be, leaning to pick up both of their duffle bags and slinging them over his shoulder.

I took another look around, smelling concrete, diesel fuel, and seeing nothing that was right. We’d left the ranch around midnight, flown for several hours, and it was still dark, but there were lights blazing enough to show me where we were. “No, this is an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean.” Something had to be up – this was a joke. “Where’s the office building and the apartment. You know, city stuff.”

“That’s the FBI. You joined Shield.” Phil started striding across the tarmac, and I had a choice, run back up the ramp of the quinjet – stupid name – or trail after him. I followed after him, neck craning to look at everything, and trying to map out a few exits. It hit me that I’d come a long way from a two-bit circus. Everyone wore ear protection, goggles, and safety suits. They were regular jets to go with the quinjets, and I was pretty sure I spotted a helicopter. Phil snagged my hand and dragged me along faster. “We need ear protection to be out here too long.”

“Ah, I’m mostly deaf anyways.” I resisted, but he frowned, and I gave in. “Poor wolfie ears probably ache.”

Phil opened a door and yanked me inside. The door shut and the noise stopped. He started moving again, and I figured my neck was going to have a strain from all the rubber-necking I was doing. “So why no office building?”

“We thought about it, but there are alphas everywhere, and they generally cause problems, so we went another route after WW2.” Phil kept my hand in his. “Howard Stark was one of the minds behind the helicarrier, and it’s given us freedom to respond to any threat we deem necessary.”

“Wait.” I stopped, resisting his tug. “You live here? All the time?”

“Yes.” Phil sounded patient. “You will, too. Except when you’re on missions.”

I stared at him, not sure about that at all. “I still get my vacation days, right? So, I can, you know, see the sky?”

Now Phil stared at me. He licked his lower lip. “We find a remote location to run at the full moon. You’re welcome to join.”

“Your pack? Once a month?” I had a feeling I was babbling, but I should’ve asked more questions before I signed up to live in a tin can. “So when you said you had an office, you meant you lived in it.”

Phil looked away and then back. “I have quarters. They’re small, not big enough for both of us.”

It was my turn to look the other direction. I got it now. Phil had recruited me, but we’d have separate rooms and work different hours, and once a month I’d see Lucky, if I ran with the pack. “I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Phil said, looking relieved all the sudden. “First, we need to get you to medical. From there, things will become clearer.”

We met people as we walked down long hallways and once through a large open space. They nodded but didn’t stop to talk, and Phil kept moving. I felt like I’d been swallowed by a large beast. Memorizing the way back was impossible, and I understood now what Ward had meant about Fury keeping Phil close.

“You usually stay here, right? On this thing?”

“Yes.” Phil moved so my sore arm didn’t get bumped when we went through another door. “I’m often in radio contact with the senior agents in the field, but this is our base of operations.”

“Not worried you’ll sink?” I kept looking for windows and seeing nothing but gun-metal gray.

“Not so much.” Phil grinned, and I had no idea why. “Today will be very busy. You need a medical checkup, vaccinations, uniforms, assessments, and quarters of your own. I know this is all a bit alarming, but try to be patient. It’ll all become clear over the next week.”

I was pretty sure I understood now. I’d work in the field, killing people, and Phil would stay on this boat. We’d meet up every now and then for coffee, or a run under the full moon. I’d had this idea in my head that we’d share an apartment, go to work, and maybe help people together. “I’m an idiot,” I muttered.

Sharp werewolf ears picked up on that. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I guess I couldn’t have brought Betsy.” If she were still alive, which she wasn’t, thanks to werewolves.

“No, but a few people do have cats, rats, and other pets like fish.” Phil put his hand on my back as we walked. I figured out why when I realized the two men coming at us were werewolves. They looked me over with sharp eyes, and I returned the favor. Phil nudged me to keep moving, and I did, but I didn’t fool myself into thinking all werewolves were nice like Phil and Lucky. At the first opportunity, one of them would try to beat me up and possibly eat me. I heard Phil growl, and we moved faster now.

“Rats?” I went back to that.

“They make good pets.” Phil dragged me around a corner, and we were in an open area set up like a hospital. A nurse came over without delay and gave me the once over. Phil nodded. “Clint Barton. He needs the full workup for new agents in addition to a check of his injured arm.”

“Hi, Clint. I’m Marcy. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Great,” I muttered, not meeting her eyes. “Phil, do I have to do this?”

I saw her stunned expression but didn’t know why she was so surprised. Phil turned so he was between her and me, and I couldn’t see her at all. He smiled. “Yes. I’m going to check in with Director Fury. I’ll pick you up when you’re done. Please don’t peck anyone’s eyes out.”

“No promises.” I glared at him. “Do they know about me?”

“Your unique skills are level six and up, but medical has to know everything. They’re sworn to silence.”

“Okay, that made no sense.” I hadn’t shifted since Mercy had pulled me out of it, but my arm was much better. I wanted to fly soon. “Tell Fury he owes me a horse.”

Phil winced, dropped a kiss on my forehead, and strode away into the depths of the beast. No telling when he’d be back, or if he’d be back. I stopped looking at my Converse. “Guess I’m ready.”

Marcy smiled. “Good. This way. Please let me know if anything hurts.”

“Whatever,” I said.

********

Fury intercepted Phil before he got to his quarters to put the duffle bags down. “About damn time, Cheese.”

“It was quite an adventure. If I ever find out you orchestrated this entire event just to flush out Garrett, I’ll murder you in your sleep.” Phil meant every word of that.

“I don’t sleep.” Fury stood in the door while Phil dropped the duffle bags on his bunk. “You’re going to need better quarters. There’s no room for Hawkeye in here.”

“I told him he’d be getting his own room.” Phil started stripping out of his clothes. He desperately needed a shower. Lucky was furious they’d left Clint alone, and Phil was tempted to snarl at him.

Letting the door shut, Fury stepped inside and took up a lot of room. “I only let you keep these quarters because they seemed to serve that stupid idea you had that you were a useless wolf. These are for temporary crewmen who work the flight deck, not agents, and certainly not the Heart of my pack.”

“I’m not the Heart of anything.” Phil wanted to throw a shoe at him. “Submissives are the Heart. I’m an omega. We stand outside the pack. The Marrok has an omega. She explained it to me.”

“Well, you’re my Heart.” Fury wasn’t listening.

It stopped Phil cold. He slumped. “He doesn’t want to be here. When I shut the door, I thought he’d make a break for it. He wants the sky, not to live in on an aircraft carrier.”

“I think we do pretty good sky wise.” Fury put his hand on Phil’s bare shoulder, and not that long ago, Phil would’ve brushed him aside. Phil took a deep breath and stepped inside Fury’s space, trying to calm both of their wolves. Fury made a huffy noise. “Putting the voodoo on my wolf.”

“Someone has to do it.” Phil leaned his forehead on Fury’s shoulder. “He’s a thunderbird, Nick.”

“He’s your mate. You can’t push him aside because you think it’ll be good for him.” Fury’s voice rumbled. “Don’t be stupid, Cheese.”

Phil thought that about summed things up. “Go away. I need a shower.”

“You smell like skunk spunk.” Fury gently pushed him that direction. “I’ll keep an eye on your bird.”

“Good.” Phil took a long shower, worrying that he was already doing all the wrong things. Lucky told him to shut up three times. Tired of the internal arguing, he got out, toweled off, and went to find some clothes only to discover everything he owned was gone from his quarters, even Hawkeye’s duffle. Two crewmen with a box brushed by him, going to clean out the bathroom, and he yelled, “I hate you, Director Fury!”

*********

“All new recruits get their hearing and vision tested.”

“Too bad.” I crossed my arms, glad I was still mostly dressed. “Move on to something else before I walk out of here.” And I would.

“Nurse, give us a minute.” Fury appeared in the doorway like the angel of doom, still dressed in all black, eye patch in place. His gun was obvious, and he looked peeved, but then again, maybe he always looked that way.

Marcy was gone in a flash, smart lady. I moved until my back was in the corner of the room and wished I had a weapon. “You owe me a horse, furball.”

“No replacing that horse.” Fury stayed by the door, not crowding me. “Welcome to Shield, Hawkeye.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I snarled, feeling violated for any number of reasons. “What do you want? Marcy there wants to poke at me some more.”

“You can do the rest tomorrow.” Fury sounded serious. “Agent Coulson is my oldest friend.” He paused.

“And you’ll rip my arms off if I hurt him?” I asked, not sure it mattered but interested in the answer.

“No, I’m not worried about him today.” Fury shook his head. “He gets these ideas. Sometimes you have to shake them loose. I’m asking you to be patient with him. He never expected to mate, much less to some sort of weird-ass bird.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly plan to get attached to a furface.” I ignored any feelings I had for Phil because there was no way I was discussing them with Fury. “Phil said I had my own quarters. My arm hurts, and I want to shoot someone. Can I go now?”

“Agent Coulson doesn’t make room assignments. Let’s get you some pain killers, and I’ll escort you to your quarters.” Fury left me behind, going out and ordering Marcy to take care of me. I kept my back against the wall, deciding to start carrying my knife.

Marcy hurried inside, and I slipped into my shirt. She handed me a packet of pills. “Take one now and one in twelve hours. Drink plenty of water and rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I moved fast, before she changed her mind. Fury was at the main door, and I considered ducking into a vent or something, but his one eye zeroed in on me, and I slumped over to him. He led me deeper into the ship, and I felt like a rat in a maze. “Can I get some schematics for this boat? I’m never going to learn my way around.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Fury took us through a set of double-doors, and I stopped, shocked. With a huff, Fury raised his voice. “Cheese, quit arguing with the man! Those are your new quarters!”

Phil turned, anger all over his face one second and then it smoothed to show no emotion whatsoever. He needed pants. I noticed his hair was wet, too. Fury smirked. “Take your pill, Hawkeye. Report back to medical in twelve hours.”

I stood there staring instead of answering. Fury strode over to Phil and said something. His back was to me, and his voice was low. Phil’s lip curled, but he nodded. I shoved my hands in my jean’s pockets and strolled down until I was close. Fury left before I even made it halfway. Phil, still naked, rounded on me.

“Lucky is sure you’re near death.”

“You’re very naked,” I whispered. “Is that normal for werewolves? Is Lucky making you shift?”

He stared at me for a long second. “Werewolves… you know? Never mind. Lucky’s right. You’re upset. Come inside. I’ll make the bed.”

“I’m okay.” But I let him take me by the hand. We stepped inside the room, and I was expecting something very military, but I was wrong. It was a spacious apartment with a small connecting kitchen. I saw one door and assumed that was the bedroom. Phil herded me to the door, and we went inside together. Our duffle bags were on the bed, which someone had already made, and that made me think we’d be living together, but that couldn’t be right. I rubbed my forehead, noticing the connecting bathroom. “This is nice.” It could use a window, but that would be asking a lot.

“I can move back to my room. Fury isn’t going to bully you into accepting me.” Phil actually sounded a bit angry. “He’s been after me to move to this floor for years.”

I sat down on the side of the bed. “You don’t want to room with me. Didn’t you tell him?” Then I yawned. Phil took the packet of pills from my slack hand. He somehow found a cup, filled it with water, and I took one. “Arm hurts. Sorry.”

“You need to rest and heal. I forget sometimes that humans need to do that.” Phil tugged off my shoes, found me a pillow and a blanket, and I curled into a ball. I heard him whine, high-pitched, and I lifted an eyelid. He stroked his hand across my forehead. “Lucky wants to join you.”

“What does Phil want?” I muttered, knowing the answer to that one. Fury wanted me to be patient with him, but I was confused. We’d had sex, good sex, and then we’d gotten here and Phil didn’t want me, and now we had an apartment together, but he didn’t want that either. It was too much to figure out, and I fell asleep.

The smell of coffee woke me up, and I was going for it before I remembered that I had no idea where I was and fell over my duffle bag. I might’ve cursed, and then I saw the scab on my arm had ripped off, and I decided to lie there and bleed.

“Clint?” Phil, back in his suit and tie, dropped to his knees besides me. “What the hell?”

“Sorry,” I said, not even trying to get up. “I’m starting to think I shouldn’t take pain pills.”

Phil disappeared but returned with a wet washcloth. He cleaned off my arm and applied pressure to make the trickle of blood stop. I sat up and leaned against him, just breathing. There were a lot of things that needed to be said, but I was not in the mood.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged, not liking anything about my new job. “I have to go back to medical.”

“Not yet, and this time, I’ll stay with you.” Phil helped me to my feet, and I tossed my duffle at the closet for later. He steadied me. “You should go back to bed.”

“Give me a minute.” I took a deep breath, hugging my arm close. Shaking my head, I looked him in the eye. “Coffee.”

We went to the little kitchen together, and I thumped down on a stool, grateful when Phil made my coffee the way I liked it and set it in front of me. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Phil already had a coffee. He didn’t sit, but he stayed close. I wasn’t sure what to say, but the silence was awkward. I’d admit, I was missing Jim and his brand of silence.

“So, I work here now,” I mumbled around a big drink of heaven.

“I hope so,” Phil said. “We still have paperwork to do, uniforms to requisition, weapon checks, medical forms,--.”

“Slow down there, buddy,” I said, feeling like I’d been struck by a hammer. All that stuff and more, and Phil was smiling, and I wanted to curl up in a ball and hug Lucky. “What if I’m not cut out for this sniper business?”

Phil shrugged. “You’ll find something you want to do here. I’m sure of it.” He didn’t sound worried. “We employ people from all walks of life in different capacities.”

“I’m not your first circus freak who turns into a stinky bird and can shoot the eyes out of squirrel with an arrow at a hundred yards?”

There was a long pause. “You can do that?”

“Never tried.” I focused on my coffee until it was empty. “How many werewolves work here?” That was the question I really needed an answer to, since some of them might try to kill me.

“Thirty-four. Now.” Phil took my empty coffee cup. “You need food. Let’s go to the cafeteria and have lunch.”

My stomach agreed, but I knew the food wouldn’t be as good as Jim’s pancakes. I went to wash up, considered shaving and decided against it, found a clean shirt, and put on my Converse. Finding the last pain pill on the dresser, I stuffed it in my pocket.

Phil kept me moving towards the cafeteria, and I had this weird thought along the way. “Is it day, or night?”

“It’s four pm central time in the United States. Currently, we’re off the coast of Peru.” Phil made it sound so normal, so obvious. “We run four six hour shifts for most of the people employed here. Agents are required to be available at all times.”

I didn’t ask any more questions, feeling like I was in a fog. Phil made me sit at a table near the back where I could see all the doors, and he went to get us food, promising lots of choices. I felt like an idiot, people sneaking peeks at me, while I cradled my arm and wished I’d investigated other careers. I could’ve worked at the diner, or the feed mill, or maybe taught archery at the community center. Phil turned, and his eyes were golden. I smiled, not sure I pulled it off, but I tried. I didn’t understand the bond that we shared. It seemed like Lucky could sense my emotions, but Phil and I were clueless.

Three men, moving like werewolves, strolled to my table, giving it a bump. I was on my feet before I thought about it. They smiled, and I wasn’t sure whether it was genuine or meant to be intimidating. One of the wolves looked pointedly at my arm and licked his lips. He smelled blood.

“Can I help you furballs?” I asked.

“Just wanted to meet the human who caught Phil in a foot trap,” the closest one said. “I could eat you in two bites.”

All the advice about dealing with dominants that Bran had given me flew out the window. “I’d give you indigestion.”

“He really would,” Phil drawled. “Jon, Titus, and Sam, I suggest you leave before I make you correct all the errors in your mission reports. For the last two years.”

All of them ducked their heads and fled. I laughed, not caring that they heard me. “Phil, you enjoyed that.”

He sat down across from me. His back was to the cafeteria, and it felt like he was sheltering me. “Level three agents can be annoying.”

“Good to know.” I had to ask. “What level will I be? One?”

“Director Fury makes those decisions, not me.” Phil looked over his shoulder, and like magic, food began to appear on our table. At least four different servers brought tray after tray, heavy on the meat. There were cheeses, fruits, and at least three different kinds of potatoes.

“Phil? Are you pregnant?” I asked in a hushed voice.

At least three different tables had someone laugh. Phil gave me a look. “I’m a werewolf. We eat.”

That was the understatement of the year. “So you starved at the ranch?”

“I was hungry. Yes.” Phil filled a plate, handed it to me, and growled, “Eat.” His eyes glowed, and I was pretty sure that was Lucky talking.

“I’ll keep my arm out of the way in case it ends up in your mouth.” I found a fork and started on the meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Phil growled something about mouthy parakeets, which I ignored. I watched him eat in his natural environment. No one to hold him back, and he put away a huge amount of food. We didn’t talk. He ate, I ate, and then I watched him eat while I sipped some pop.

No one came close to our table, and finally, I said, “I’m glad I don’t have to buy your dinner.”

Phil wiped his mouth. “I was hungry.” He nudged my plate. “Did you get enough?”

“How could I not?” I eased to my feet, trying to stretch without looking like I was doing it. I felt better, not so woozy. “Did you?”

“I should’ve had dessert.” He stepped closer. “Lucky wants to go with you to medical. He’s asking.”

Surprised, I hesitated. Phil shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“They’d let him?” I didn’t like that Phil looked faintly hurt, but I was sure wolves weren’t welcome in regular hospitals.

“Of course.” Phil somehow managed to get me moving towards the door. “It’s up to you, but I don’t want you to go alone.”

I thought about it as we made the trek back to the apartment. Phil shut the door behind us, and I went to perch on the sofa, wishing for a window or two. I knew there were a lot of things we needed to talk about, but Phil disappeared back in the bedroom, and I wasn’t going to chase after him. I half-expected Lucky to emerge, but Phil came out to pace back and forth.

“We should talk,” he said.

“You start.” I flexed my arm several times and slowly pulled off my shirt. Phil stopped what he was doing and stared. I stared back at him. He went back to pacing, and he might’ve been growling. I wasn’t sure. He didn’t say anything, and I toed off my shoes. I needed my bird. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I had an itch. It was time to make sure my wings worked.

“I know this life is a shock to you. I should’ve prepared you better.” Phil was shooting little glances at me. I rotated my arms, rubbing my wrists, and cracking my knuckles. He rubbed his forehead. “I’m not sure what to say now.”

Finding the energy was easy, and I shifted right out of my jeans. It hurt, and I screeched, but I extended my wings, feeling the spots that still needed time to heal. Phil seemed rooted to the floor, and I jumped straight at him.

To his credit, he extended his hands, curled into fists, and I grabbed hold. Carefully, slowly, I tucked my wings away, and he brought me in close to his body. He took two steps and sat on a coffee table. My head was slightly higher than his, and I tucked so I could nestle under his chin.

“My god, Clint. You’re so beautiful.” The words were breathless, almost whispers.

I’d noticed he was calling me Clint now, instead of Hawkeye. I liked it. He felt good, warm and strong. I had the irrational urge to build a nest in his lap. His fists didn’t move, and I knew I’d poked a couple of holes, but he didn’t complain. I wondered if Lucky was whining about my smell, and I clicked my beak together.

“I got you,” he said. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

We sat that way for a long minute, and he started talking. “I want to live here with you, but I don’t want you to feel pushed, like you have to do it. You have choices. You and Lucky are bonded, not me. It’s a strange situation, but I have to respect your boundaries. Whatever they are.”

I wanted to roll my eyes and peck him on the nose.

“Your life is going to change so much, and I hadn’t even thought about it until I saw your face when the door shut. I’m not sure it’s fair to cage you here at Shield. Lucky thinks you and he should fly, run, and play, and all paperwork should be buried.”

Lucky was a smart wolf.

“But I have a job to do. That I like. I want you to like it, too.” The last words were soft. I stroked my head along his chin, not sure what to do with all that, but we’d figure it out.

**********

It was easier to talk to the thunderbird than the man. Phil felt a little like a coward, but words came quicker when he didn’t have to worry about scornful replies. Not that Clint would do that, but being bonded didn’t always mean kindness.

Phil had thought, after sex, he might feel a deep connection to Clint. That didn’t happen. The sex had been excellent, best he’d had in centuries, but he’d felt nothing after but a bone-deep happiness and the urge to run away. Lucky had saved him. Clint didn’t understand about werewolf bonds, and that was a good thing because if he had, he’d have already left. It was also terrible because Phil had no idea how to explain it.

Lucky sighed and nudged at Phil, wanting to shift, but it wasn’t a good idea, not right now. Phil glanced over at the clock and saw it was time to head to medical. He got to his feet, carefully, and Clint surprised him by hopping up to his shoulder. His suit would have holes in it, but Clint settled, a warm weight, and Phil found it comforting.

“Watch yourself,” Phil said, going to the door and trying to walk smoothly. He got the hang of it before long, and he enjoyed people getting the hell out of the way. Lucky liked it, too. Once, just to be sure, he put his hand on Clint’s chest to steady him, and the feathers were so soft he wanted to do that all day. Lucky thought it was a good idea, and then Clint could pet him for hours. Phil laughed, Clint gurgled and put another hole in the suit.

“I’ll make a shoulder pad for you, if this is going to be a thing,” Phil said.

Clint opened his wings enough to stretch, but he didn’t flap. Phil waited until Clint was done before opening the door to medical.

Marcy’s mouth dropped open. She shut it, swallowed hard, and said, “Well.”

“I believe you’ve met Hawkeye.” Phil might’ve been a little proud.

“He’s purple,” she said.

“He’s a thunderbird.” Phil liked the purple and black woven together all over Clint’s body. His talons were a dull orange and sharp enough to take a man’s eye out.

“Yes, sir.” Marcy kept back. “I should get a picture for his file.”

“Do that.” Phil went to one of the exam rooms. “Can you hop to the bed? Keep your wings out. I want to check that joint.”

Clint did exactly that, making chirpy noises and standing up very tall. He clearly wanted to flap his wings, but he didn’t.

“He’s huge.” Marcy was back, and there were people behind her, all trying to see.

“Nine foot wing span is my estimate. I’d say he weighs about thirty pounds.” Phil rotated his shoulder, the small wounds already healed. “When he was shot, he was in this form.” He eased his hand down the wing, hoping Clint didn’t peck the shit out of him. “I think he’s regained full motion, but flapping still hurts, right, Hawkeye?”

Clint bobbed his head. He stretched his wings again, crying out when he hit full extension. Marcy was busy taking pictures, and Dr. Singh pushed his way through the door. He stopped, blinked, and then approached cautiously. “I’m not a vet.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Phil worked the sarcasm. He inspected Clint’s wing closely, but it really did seem much better. “Doctor?”

“Compared to the other wing, it’s injured, but I’d say healing well.” Dr. Singh didn’t touch. “He doesn’t have a healing factor?”

“No. He’s what the native people call a skinwalker.” Phil gently brushed his hand down Clint’s primaries. A feather came loose, drifting to the bed, and he picked it up. It was a good seven inches long and dark, rich purple. He tucked it inside his coat pocket. “He’ll need care from time to time. We need someone to get up to speed fast on large birds of prey.”

“I’ll do it.” Dr. Simmons surged to the front, small hand waving in the air. “Please.”

“Sounds like we have a winner,” Dr. Singh said. “You’ll be his primary physician then. Okay with you, Hawkeye?”

Clint tilted his head, peering up at her. He stretched up to his tallest, and like a wave, his feathers shifted into skin until he was sitting on the bed as a man with his hands in his lap. He narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

Dr. Simmons grinned. “Amazing. I need to know everything.”

Phil smiled, unable to help himself in the face of her enthusiasm. “Marcy, get Dr. Simmons up to speed on the information you have so far.”

A hand reached, and Phil nearly flinched when Clint wrapped his fingers around Phil’s wrist. “Can Lucky bring me my jeans?” He flipped a corner of the bed sheet across his mid-section. “I’d rather not run around naked like you do.”

“I’ll do that.” Phil hurried back to their apartment because Lucky wanted to shift right now. He put his purple feather on the dresser and stripped out of his suit, placing it on the bed. Lucky took over in the next instant. He switched a little faster than usual.

Lucky grabbed up Clint’s shirt and jeans with his mouth and happily trotted back down to medical. All doors on the carrier were the push down model, which helped wolves navigate, and Lucky felt like it’d been days since he’d seen Clint. He dodged around people, trying not to growl if they slowed him down.

“Coulson! Wait up!”

Lucky didn’t even look over his shoulder. Finally, he got to medical and launched himself at his mate.

“Lucky!” Clint fell under Lucky’s assault, laughing and pushing. “Ow! Ow! Get off me, ya furball!”

Lucky made sure to lick Clint’s face thoroughly before collapsing on the floor next to him. Clint scrambled into his clothes, apologized to the doctor ladies about ten times, and Lucky rolled to his back to wave his paws at him.

“That wolf’s not right.”

“Okay, you shut up,” Clint said, fierce in his words. “He’s perfect.”

Grinning, Lucky licked Clint’s foot and made him yelp. The one lady doctor laughed. “This is Coulson’s wolf?”

“Yeah,” Clint said. “He’s my mate.” He thumped Lucky on the side.

Lucky leaned his shoulder into Clint’s leg, liking those words.

“That’s not possible,” the lady, who Lucky was starting to dislike, said. “You’re a mutant bird shifter, and wolves only mate with wolves.”

Clint spread his hands, smelling frustrated. “Okay,” he drawled. “But Lucky knows what I’m feeling, and he sent me a message once when Coulson was in trouble.”

Whining a little, Lucky didn’t like that memory. Those had been bad wolves. He put his mouth around Clint’s hand to comfort him.

“Watch out!”

Clint laughed and knelt to hug him. “Oh, Lucky.”

Lucky snarled at the doctor lady when Clint turned him loose. Clint nodded. “I agree. Marcy, you need to take a hike. You’re upsetting Lucky.”

She crossed her arms, smelling of fear and anger, and Lucky crowded Clint back away from her in case she did something crazy.

“I agree. Marcy, you should leave. I’ll continue from here,” the other doctor said. “This is obviously a complicated case, and I need clear thinking, not old prejudices.”

Clint patted Lucky on the head. “Thanks for bringing my clothes, buddy.”

“Yes, thank you. Now, maybe, his complexion will fade from bright red.”

Lucky wagged his tail at her. She smelled nice.

*********

I didn’t want to, but I let her test my ears. If Lucky hadn’t been there, I probably would’ve left, but he let me hold his paw and fail. And fail. And make her frown. I wanted to crawl from the room and hide. Lucky pushed closer, and I continued to be a failure.

Finally, it was over, and it was time for a dozen other tests, including giving a pint of blood to be tested for any number of diseases and genetic problems, or so she said. I just nodded, feeling numb.

When she tested my eyes, she did it the old-fashioned way with one of the signs that start with a large E on the top. I glanced at it and said, “Made in China.”

She looked at me and then the chart. “Say that again?”

“The smallest letters I can see say Made in China. Down at the bottom there.”

Squinting, she went over to the chart and stared down at it. “That’s not possible.”

“Did you want those big letters above it? I can read those, if you like.” I slide my hand through Lucky’s fur, tugging his ear for fun. “Want me to stand back further?”

Dr. Simmons tossed the eye chart on the bed. “I can see that’s useless. I’ll just put 20/10. No one needs to know more than that.”

“Sounds good.” At least I’d passed one test, and I smiled. “I still have a pain pill in my pocket, but I don’t want to take it like Marcy said. It made me feel all woozy.”

“Give it to me, please.” She held out her hand, and I put it there. After a moment, she sighed. “This isn’t correct for your weight. I’m going to speak to Marcy firmly.”

There wasn’t any way I could answer that. She checked her tablet for the tenth time. “I’ll send your measurements to requisition your uniforms. I’m sure you’ll have them by tomorrow.”

I nodded, wondering when that was, but not wanting to ask. She patted me on the hand. “Are you feeling well enough to do a fitness test? Run on a treadmill?”

“I guess.” I nodded. “Lucky can stay?”

“Of course.” She smiled, all bright and sunshine. I liked her. It wasn’t long and I had electrodes hooked all over me and was pounding up a treadmill. Lucky sat in front of me and wagged his tail. Once or twice, his front paws did a little dance. Dr. Simmons laughed. “He’s being so patient.”

Unable to answer, I kept plodding along. At some point when I was wheezing for air, she told me to stop, and I stepped off the treadmill to collapse in a puddle. Lucky was kind enough to lick my face. I cradled my arm and tried to find oxygen for my lungs.

“Excellent! You’re in better shape than all the other humans on board, though technically, I suppose, you’re not human.”

“Yay for me.” I groaned. Lucky helped me to my feet, and I did some slow stretches to get my breathing under control. “Are we done? ‘Cause I’m done.”

“I’m certifying you to go the gym and the shooting range, but only because you’re left-handed. You rest your right arm, and I’m scheduling you to physical therapy.” Dr. Simmons handed me my shirt. I threw it over Lucky’s head to drive him crazy. I didn’t mention that I had no watch, no way to know when my appointments were, and no damn idea where the gym was hidden. I’d give anything for a window.

Lucky ripped my shirt in half and threw it back at me. “You little shit,” I growled, trying to grab his tail.

He pranced out of range, and I held up my destroyed shirt to Dr. Simmon’s giggling. “I liked that shirt.”

“Purple is a good color on you.” Dr. Simmons patted my shoulder. “Go rest. Get some dinner and a good night’s sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I balled up my shirt and threw it at Lucky’s head. He snatched it and ran off. I gave her a wave and took off after him. He lead me on a merry chase, and I didn’t even get close until we were in a gym, a big gym, with a lot of equipment and people who turned to stare. “Lucky!”

He came to me, dropped my disgusting shirt, and sat down. I could feel satisfaction oozing up from him. “Okay. I guess this is the gym. It’s nice.”

“Hey, it’s Coulson’s wolf!”

Before I knew, I was hip deep in furballs. I sighed. “Hi, guys.”

They fell into a rough circle around us, and I knew where this was going. Werewolves always wanted to know who was top dog. Lucky grinned up at me. I had the feeling he wanted me to meet his friends.

“Most of us earn our place around here.”

“He’s hurt.”

“Then, we should eat him.”

I went to one knee and wrapped my arm around Lucky. “I know you meant well, but these furballs want to eat me.”

Lucky looked deep into my eyes, and I agreed. I stood, and he did, too. My arm wasn’t up to much, but I’d go down fighting. The hackles on Lucky’s back stood straight up, and his teeth flashed.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Neither of us looked away. I watched the big one, and Lucky had the rest of them. All the werewolves froze at the sound of Fury’s voice.

“This young man is Clint Barton, known as Hawkeye. He’s Coulson’s mate. Coulson is not going to allow you to touch him, as evidenced by his very pointy teeth. Hawkeye has killed more werewolves than anyone on the planet. Do you want to be a name on his list?”

None of them met Fury’s eyes, backing down. “Sorry, sir.”

“Hawkeye, have you been to medical?”

“Yup.” I kept my hand on Lucky’s back. “The reports are in the system.” I tried to sound official. Coulson was probably laughing. Lucky snapped his teeth at a werewolf who didn’t step back.

Fury nodded. “Good.”

“I want different quarters. A window would be nice. I’m a damn thunderbird. I need to see the sky, or I’m going to start eating furballs for breakfast.” I put my fists on my hips and glared into his one eye. We might’ve stood like that forever, but Lucky tugged on my jeans with his teeth. I glanced down and everyone seemed to sigh with relief.

“They can have my room, sir.”

It was a woman werewolf in a skintight black jumpsuit with a pistol on her leg and enough attitude to run a pack of her own. “Agent Maria Hill.”

“Clint Barton.” I put my hand on Lucky’s head. “Could we switch? Please?”

“Yeah, say please to her,” Fury grumbled. “Damn bird. Does anyone on this boat have a job?”

Werewolves scattered, except for Hill. Lucky wagged his tail at her, and I took that as a good sign. She nodded. “Two portholes, and they both make me seasick. We’ll switch today, I promise. Coulson, it’s not the full moon.”

“He knows. His wolf bonded him to a smelly bird,” Fury said. “A bird who’s going to lose a few feathers if he doesn’t tone it down.”

“Forget it,” I snapped. “Get me a bow, and I’ll teach your wolves to run.”

Fury threw back his head and laughed. “Get them moved, Hill. Coulson, you have one more day and then I expect some damn paperwork out of you. Hawkeye, put on a shirt.”

“Whatever,” I said. Lucky started bouncing in circles, and I laughed. Life on this carrier wasn’t going to be dull.

*********

Maria made him switch so he could carry boxes, and Lucky grumbled, but Phil agreed, finding some casual clothes, and he started helping without delay. Much to his surprise, he agreed with Clint. Maria’s room was an improvement, with an open floor concept, no dividing walls at all, except for the bathroom and closet. The portholes would let in a lot of natural light, and he pulled her aside, out of ear shot of his mate.

“Why are you switching? Your room is much better.”

“One.” She held up a finger. “I just sleep here. Two.” She held up two fingers. “Have you seen that boy’s eyes? I was ready to let him fly the helicarrier.”

“I know. I’m doomed.” Phil smelled the truth of all that and stopped feeling guilty. He bumped her shoulder with his and sent good feelings to her wolf.

She looked astonished, eyes blowing wide. “Wow.”

“Hey! Furballs! A little help here!” Clint was trying to move the sofa against the wall. Phil laughed, went over, picked it up, and put it where Clint pointed. He immediately sat on it. “Now, where should we put the bed? Are you sleeping here with me? Or is Lucky? Are you even living here with me?”

Phil pointed at the pile of boxes. “That’s my stuff.”

“Did you remember your Captain America underwear?” Clint smirked, flipping so he was stretched out head to toe.

Maria laughed and left with a backwards wave to work on her own new apartment. Clint returned the wave. “Why do you even need them? You like running around naked.”

With a growl, Phil pounced on him. The shock on Clint’s face made it worth it. Phil pinned him easily enough and stole a kiss. Clint tensed, and then relaxed, wrapping his leg around Phil’s and letting himself be squished. In the werewolf world, Phil was dominating him. Lucky laughed at that. Clint slipped his hand to the back of Phil’s neck and pulled him into another kiss. This one was better than the last.

“You weigh about seven tons,” Clint said, right up against Phil’s lips. “If you fell in the water, would you sink like a stone?”

“Yes. Werewolves don’t swim. At all. Too much muscle. We sink.” Phil eased some weight up to give Clint’s lungs a break. “You?”

“Not only can I swim like a fish, I can hunt fish, swooping down and snatching them up out of the water. They’re delicious.” Clint kissed him again. “So, you’re staying with me?”

“Yes.” Phil nuzzled him. “I want to, okay?”

“Good.” Clint bit the underside of Phil’s jaw, not hard. “My bird likes you.”

“I thought you were the same?”

“I am, except, well, I get urges that I know aren’t human. My thunderbird wants to perch on your shoulder and peck anyone who comes too close.”

Pleased to hear it, Phil kissed him hard, stroking his tongue deep into Clint’s mouth and making them both groan. He pulled back, liking the wild look in Clint’s eyes. “We should fix the bed.”

“And shut the door.” Clint said one thing, but his hips pressed up, moving against Phil’s. Phil growled, nearly losing his mind. “No, you aren’t tearing my shirt off! Lucky destroyed my other one!”

Phil chuckled. “That was funny.” He launched himself up and then hauled Clint to his feet. Clint looked surprised, but he recovered quickly, going to the mattress and box springs that were propped up against a wall.

“Let’s just put it in the far corner on the floor. We can pile a bunch of pillows and extra blankets around. I brought one from the ranch that I really like.” Clint started pushing and pulling, and Phil went to do it.

“You realize you’re building a nest, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, now, move it there.” Clint went to shut the door and lock it before coming back to boss Phil around some more. Phil obeyed, but he noticed Clint’s clothes were coming off one piece at a time, and when the sheets and the cover were on, Clint crawled up to a pillow to lounge, naked.

Licking his lips, Phil enjoyed the sight for a few moments. “Tell me about your scars.” He toed off his shoes and knelt on the end of the bed to remove his shirt. He stroked his hand down Clint’s leg from knee to ankle, wanting to nibble a little.

“Werewolves, mostly.” Clint tucked his sore arm against his side and used the other as a pillow. “My dad gave me a couple on my back. Barney the one on my leg.”

“Your brother?” Phil asked, leaving his jeans on as he rubbed Clint’s thighs to nudge his legs farther apart.

“He shot me. With an arrow. Accidently.” Clint drew in a sharp breath as Phil mouthed the scar. “He was a rotten shot.”

“He was aiming for your heart?” Phil bit down on the inside of Clint’s thigh and watched him shudder.

Clint rubbed his foot against Phil’s jeans. His eyes shined blue, and Phil got a little lost staring before licking his way higher to make him groan. “Do I taste good?”

“Delicious.”

“I always knew I’d end up as dinner for a werewolf.” Clint’s breath went ragged, hips twitching under Phil’s greedy hands. Phil took his time but he enjoyed every morsel, driving Clint to the point of orgasm before backing away to strip off his own jeans. Clint spread his legs, and Phil nestled into him, careful of his weight.

Clint had his head thrown back, eyes shut, and Phil rocked them together as he kissed him. Clint grabbed Phil’s ass with one hand, keeping them locked. They moved, kissing until they were out of air, and Phil felt like his entire body was tingling. Lucky was close, pushing him higher, making him feel even more, and Phil knew some of it was Clint through Lucky’s bond.

“Oh, man,” Clint whispered. “Right there,” he drawled the last word, and Phil felt him shudder and whimper. The sounds shoved Phil’s control away, and he came all over the both of them. With a drawn-out groan, he collapsed to the side, trying not to squish Clint or get come all over the clean bed covers. Clint lay sprawled, come all over himself, eyes shut, breath starting to slow down. Phil kept a hand on him, not knowing what to do or say but wanting to stay with him.

Lucky offered to switch, but Phil pushed him away – gently – asking for more time. Clint nudged Phil’s foot with his own. “Lucky wants to play.”

“He can wait,” Phil growled, needing a bond of his own and not having the faintest idea of how to get one with the man he wanted. “A minute.”

Lacing their hands together, Clint sighed. “Can I do this?” The question was soft and low.

Knowing the question wasn’t about sex, Phil measured his answer. “You can do anything.”

Clint grunted. “Doubt it,” he mumbled, and his breath evened out as he dropped to sleep. Phil couldn’t imagine how anyone could drop off filthy from sex. It just wasn’t right. He eased off the bed, bumbled to the bathroom to find a couple of wash cloths, and clean up before going to Clint. Even the warm cloth didn’t wake Clint up, just making him wiggle and mumble. Phil smiled, took the wash cloth to the bathroom to rinse, and went to find blankets and pillows for Clint’s nest.

********

Warm was nice, and I burrowed deeper, feeling good, and I took a long stretch, half-expecting to find a furry body somewhere in all these blankets. Nothing, and I peeked out, not surprised to smell coffee. I glanced over at the porthole, and it was still dark, wherever they were.

Someone, named Phil, had been working on the apartment. No more boxes strewn about, the furniture was placed in a sensible pattern, and I could admit I liked it. This one felt… cozy, not just square rooms with bland white walls. This would be a place to come back to and relax. Now, I had to figure out if there was TV on this boat.

The exterior door opened, and Phil came inside, carrying several bags that smelled delicious. “Hungry?”

“Starved.” I sat up, stretched again, and let the covers pool around my waist. “Breakfast in bed?”

“Dinner in bed. It’s after eight. You only slept a couple of hours.” Phil took it all to the table and started unloading. I snuck away to the bathroom to take care of business. From there, I went to find my duffle bag, slipping into clean sweat pants and an old shirt from a circus that was no longer in business. For a heartbeat, I fiercely missed my horse, and then, I took my shaving kit to the bathroom and tucked my few things away.

“Anything you need from the commissary?” Phil asked from behind me.

Heart racing, I blinked at him with big eyes. “You gotta stop sneaking up on me. I’m gonna knife you or something.”

Phil’s eyebrows went up. “I’ll bring my cymbals next time.”

“Do that,” I grumbled and considered Phil’s original question. “Commissary is a store, right?”

“Supplies. We don’t have to pay for anything. Part of the job.” Phil nodded. “I usually put in a monthly order. We can do it together from now on, if you want.”

The tentative statement made me smile and nod. Phil was never pushy, and it was a relief. I washed my hands again and trailed Phil out to the table. “I’m about out of clothes.”

“Your uniforms will be ready in the morning. Laundry pickup is on Wednesday. There are numbered bags under the sink in the bathroom. We set it outside the door in the morning and come home to clean laundry in the evening.”

“Sweet.” I wouldn’t miss doing laundry. Looking over the food, I picked the meat loaf to eat first. Phil didn’t fight me for it, so it must’ve been okay. “My time sense is all screwed up. Feels like the morning.”

Phil started eating, and I hoped there’d be more for me. The guy could eat. Phil shrugged. “I don’t keep a conventional schedule. I sleep when I need to, but then, I’m not human.”

“Being human is over-rated.” I flexed my toes into the carpet, not sure I liked it. Hard wood was better. Maybe I’d start wearing socks. I ate with my left and did some slow arm stretches with my right. The scab held, but I couldn’t quite make the full extension. “Therapy session tomorrow.”

“You have a meeting with an Agent Coulson at eight a.m. in his office, and then right to therapy in the gym. Lucky wants to go. I told him no.”

“Killjoy,” I muttered, and I didn’t miss Phil rolling his eyes. “Who is this Agent Coulson anyway? Some suit with a grudge against skinwalkers?”

“He’s a paper-pushing robot is what I heard,” Phil said, and I saw that those words had hurt even though he spoke lightly. Phil kept on going, “And his wolf is a complete goofball. Only thing he hunts is a place to nap, and he usually fails at it.”

My eyes couldn’t get any wider. I was instantly, irrationally, angry. “Stop it. No. Anyone who talks like that about you and Lucky doesn’t deserve to be in your pack.”

“Big pack.” Coulson shrugged. “Lots of room for opinions.”

“Lots of room for assholes, you mean.” I remembered Marcy’s comment about Lucky and got angrier. “If they don’t appreciate you, I will personally knife them and throw them overboard. You can make more wolves.”

Phil studied me for a long minute. “Thanks, but don’t. Making wolves is--.”

“Not something we should ever talk about,” I said, interrupting him before he even got started. “Your pack. I should stay out of it.” Unless the stupid furballs talked bad about Phil or Lucky, and then it was on.

“The Marrok did offer to find me a new one, if I wasn’t treated properly.” Phil shrugged. “Shield is my home. Has been since the ‘50’s.”

I thought about that while I chewed. “This boat is that old?”

With a smile, Phil shook his head. “No, before we had this, we used airplanes, stayed way under the radar, and moved to different countries on a random schedule. Technically, we’re employed by the U.S. government, but that’s more their idea than ours.”

It didn’t make a lot of sense, but I supposed most government agencies didn’t. “Like the CIA? They recruited me once.”

“Yes, and no.” Phil pushed some vegetables my way. “Our founders, Peggy Carter and Howard Stark wanted us to work on an international level, and so far, we have.”

“Stark, like in Tony Stark?” I’d heard of him, everyone had.

“His father.” Phil nodded. “Howard had friends all over the globe, and he used his influence to make sure we received funding from multiple sources.”

“He a werewolf?” I had no idea.

“No, but he knew about us and gave us a home.”

Phil stopped talking, eating his way through more food than I did. I thought about it, not sure what questions to ask next. SHIELD didn’t sound like any other organization I’d ever heard of, but that could be a good thing.

“Jim said that skinwalkers hide from the government. You’re not going to tell anyone else about me and the others, right?” I could admit to some worry about that. I had no desire to live in a lab the rest of my short life.

“No. That’s classified. Director Fury didn’t even tell me until I saw you shift.” Phil sounded grouchy about that. “We’ll keep a lid on it, even if you start flying through the hallways.”

It was a good idea, but I was sure I couldn’t manage it. I finished a plate, wished for a beer, and found a pop to drink instead. “TV?”

To my surprise, Phil blushed. “Never got one.” He was practically cringing. “No cable anyway. Most people put in movies. I… don’t have any of those either.” His voice trailed off on the last sentence, and he wasn’t meeting my eyes.

Feeling like I needed to do something, I put my hand on top of his. “No big deal. I never watched much in the circus. I just--.” I hesitated, and then told the truth. “Liked piling in with Lucky to watch a movie. It was, like, a treat.”

“He liked it, too.” Phil met my eyes now. “More than werewolves are supposed to.”

“Is there a werewolf rule book around here?” I honestly wanted to know.

“No, and if we had one, it’d be all wrong, according to the Marrok.”

I nodded, watching him devour the rest of the food. “So, shut up with that shit. Whatever Lucky wants to do is the right thing for a werewolf. He doesn’t have to be like the other furballs.”

“He agrees with you.” Phil started putting the plastic containers back in the bag. I pitched in and helped him clean up, feeling wide awake. Phil showed me where he’d put things, and I found myself watching his hands, liking his strength, and wanting more of him sooner rather than later. I leaned against him after he shut the cabinet doors, resting my head on his shoulder. He didn’t put his arms around me. “I usually go to work this time of night.”

I got the message loud and clear, pulling away and pacing over to the sofa to sit. Pulling my knees up, I waited for him to leave. I had no idea how many hours I’d been on this boat, but I felt like I had whiplash from all the mixed signals.

“Wait. Clint.” Phil scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I just meant… this is hard for me.”

“Me, too.” At least we agreed about one thing. “I understand, though. When you go back to work, you’ll never have time for me. I’ll kill people and come back here. When the moon is full, I’ll get to see Lucky. Perfect. Really.”

Phil looked like I’d punched him. His eyes started to glow, and I wondered who I’d be talking to about this, him or Lucky. He paced back and forth a few times. “We’re not bonded,” he choked out.

“And we’re not ever going to be? Is that how it works?” I knew what the Marrok had told me, but maybe Phil thought different.

“I don’t know!” Phil went to one knee in front of me, but he didn’t touch me. “Those things I said. I don’t want that. I want… you,” he growled.

The words seemed wrenched from him, making me understand how hard this was for him. “Are you embarrassed about me? Bonding to a weird bird, as Fury put it?”

“No!” he snapped. His hands reached and then dropped to his sides, and I put my legs down, sitting up close to him. He looked away. “No.”

“This shit is all new to me. Two months ago, I would’ve told you to fuck off and shot you.” I was almost sure I felt Lucky howl. I couldn’t help but wrap my hand around his neck and squeeze. “I don’t think I can do this by myself.” It was a tough admission to make. It would’ve been easier to talk to Lucky instead of the man. “I’m a circus freak, used to that life.”

I could see my truth hit him hard. He leaned forward and kissed me, which I didn’t expect. He made it good, made me groan. He pulled away. “You’re not a freak. Let’s.” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Try. Together.”

“Okay.” I was willing to do that, and I wasn’t sure I could leave Lucky behind, not that anyone needed to know that. “Why don’t we go for a walk? You can show me around a little more.”

Phil smiled.

*********

Convincing Lucky they had to get some work done in the morning was a tough sell. It was also hard to peel Clint out of his nest. He grumbled through the shower, and Phil was glad uniforms had been delivered because Clint had no clothes to speak of, one more item to take care of in the future. Sometimes, the thought that Clint owned almost nothing made Phil want to bite things.

Breakfast was in the cafeteria, but Phil never had more than a muffin and a huge cup of coffee. Clint got the same, asking, “Don’t you need to eat a side of beef, or something? Maybe a pig?”

“Funny.” Phil growled at a werewolf who stepped in front of Clint in an obvious dominance display. “Move, or I’ll let him kill you.”

The werewolf slunk away, and Clint rolled his eyes. They walked together to Phil’s office. Clint grumbled about his new boots the entire way. “I’m gonna have huge blisters, and honestly, Army green is not a good color on me.”

“You look great.” Phil used his keycard to get inside and held the door for Clint, who flipped on the lights as he went by.

“How come I didn’t get a suit? I could pull it off.” Clint slumped into a chair in front of Phil’s desk, but he eyed the battered sofa taking up space in the corner. He began to chew his muffin.

Phil set his muffin down, made sure everything was where he’d left it, and turned on his computer, both screens, laptop, and tablet. He was home, and it felt good. Now, they could get started.

*********  
The end


End file.
